


In Which We Hold On

by Sugarbubbleslove



Series: The Troubles that Follow [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 08:34:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4341590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sugarbubbleslove/pseuds/Sugarbubbleslove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They need to hold on, and they need to be strong</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which We Hold On

Title: In Which We Hold On

Characters: Alistair/Elissa Cousland

Rating: Teen

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone/anything from the forum Dragon Age. Bioware owns Dragon Age and its characters. There is no copyright infringement intended. I do not make any profit/money or take any credit.

Summary: They need to hold on, and they need to be strong

Timeline: Set after Inquisition (let's just assume the Warden does find the Cure)

Warning: Angst, hurt & Comfort

Author's Notes: This is for glitterandmoondust, who gave me a prompt. This is not what I was expecting to write!

This is part of ‘The Troubles that Follows’ Series (and, and thanks to Glitterandmoondust, this might spawn a few chapters ;D)

Writing Prompt: 'Well, I'm happy to see you are not dead'

'In Which We Hold On'

Alistair eagerly tore the letter open with shaky fingers, holding his breath in anticipation of news. He dropped the torn envelope onto the vanity, his fingers working to unfold the paper when a section caught his eye.

His heart dropped into his stomach.

_**'-we regret to inform you that we have lost contact with your wife. Our party suffered an ambush in the Deep Roads. When we came to, your wife was missing and our searches have yielded no results.** _

_**We offer apologises, and our sympathy, for your wife was a great woman. A brilliant commander, one who inspired us-'** _

Alistair's hands shook as the letter fluttered free from his grip, falling to the ground. His bottom lip trembled.

How…how could they have lost his wife? How could they just  _lose_  her in the Deep Roads?

He should have stuck to his gut; he should have insisted that he went with his wife; but she had been persuasive, adamant that she could take care of herself, that she would only be gone for a few weeks.

Those few weeks turned into two months. He had been sending letter after letter, trying to contact  _anyone_  just to get information on what was going on, why his wife had not returned from her trip.

Now…she was missing, in the Deep roads.

Alistair shuddered violently, one hand coming up to his mouth as his other hand gripped the back of his wife's vanity chair, leaning on it heavily as his knees threatened to give out on him.

She must be terrified. She had always hated the Deep roads, refusing to meet her end there. He had promised her that she would not need to visit the Deep roads again without him having her back.

Tears burned the back of his eyes as he clenched them shut, his throat burning with the sobs he repressed. He wished he knew what to do, he wished he could just leave for Amaranthine, to go and find her.

Alistair straightened up, harshly wiping his tears away from his cheeks and taking a deep breath, coming out shaky, before he cleared his throat.

He exhaled then exited the bedroom. He needed to get away; he needed to find Teagan, to let him know.

Memories of his wife surged through him and he allowed himself to remember the day she left.

" _Do you have to go?" Alistair asked as he rolled over on to his side in their bed, sliding his palm over the warm spot that his wife just vacated._

_His eyes locked on his wife's body, clad in underwear, sitting at her vanity._

_"Yes." Elissa looked at him through the mirror of her vanity, pinning up her black hair into her bun. Her fighting bun he liked to call it since she only had it up in that style when she was going into battle._

_Moreover, she was, leaving him behind, alone, without her._

_Elissa sighed as she sat back, still looking at him in the glass as he pouted._

_"Alistair, we talked about this. I am the Arlessa of Amaranthine. I have to go and make sure everything is okay."_

_"Without me?" he asked and she sighed, giving him an exasperated smile – she says it's a fond smile – as she rolled her eyes, turning in her seat so she could look at him._

_"You need to stay here. Besides, I should only be gone for three weeks at the very most," she told him._

_"We are better together than we are apart."_

_Elissa rose to her feet, and walked over to the bed. She bent over, kissing him softly. He grasped the back of her neck, attempting to deepen the kiss but she just laughed softly as she pulled away._

_"You have a reason to stay behind, Alistair," she reminded him as she sat down on the bed, running a hand through his hair then cupping his cheek._

_"You stay and I'll go," he told her and she shook her head._

_"Not this time. This time, I need to sort out the situation."_

_Alistair let out a frustrated huff and she frowned, tilting her head._

_"What is it_?" she asked. _He gave her a wry glance. "Alistair, there is something you are not telling me."_

_"I don't like it," he told her, knowing that he needed to be honest._

_"Being separated or me going to Amaranthine?" she asked._

_"Both," he frowned, "I just don't like it."_

_"Hmm," she looked thoughtful as she stroked his jawline. "You-" she shook her head. "No, I still need to go. If I do not, we could be facing another riot. I barely managed to hold back the last one."_

_"Elissa-"_

_"Alistair." He shot her a glare to which her lips twitched, indicating she was holding back her amusement._

_"I really wish you would take some of the guards with you."_

_Elissa sighed. "Alistair, I cannot take our guards with us. It would look like trouble and I am going there to sooth peoples' concerns, not rile them."_

_"What of the Grey Wardens?"_

_"They are meeting me there at the Keep."_

_Alistair huffed as he rolled onto his back and Elissa sighed._

_"Alistair-"_

_He wrapped his arm around his wife's waist, tugging her while twisting his body so she was now on her back on the bed, with him hovering above her. She squealed before she laughed, her hands grasping his upper arms._

_He stared down at her, drinking in the image as her smile faded, her laugher dying as concern enter those blue eyes of hers._

" _Be careful," he whispered. Her eyes searched his before she slowly nodded._

_"I will," she told him, cupping the side of his face, running her thumb over his cheek before she trailed her fingers down, tracing his lips, her eyes following her movement before she met his once more._

" _I love you," she told him then she smiled. He leaned down, kissing her gently. Her hand dropped to his chest, over his heart – that belonged to her – and he wished with everything he had that he could go with her to protect her, to keep her safe._

_Alistair broke away from her, looking down at her flushed cheeks and dreamy eyes as they fluttered open._

" _I love you too," he whispered._

"Daddy!" the sound of his daughter's voice broke him out of his thoughts, halting his steps before he took a deep breath, plastering on a bright smile and turned around to see her hurrying toward him.

Her dark blonde curls were carefully pinned back – with a few strands loose around her face, Elissa had given up on keeping their daughter's hair neat. Her dark blue eyes bright with happiness and she wore her dark green and blue dress – the colours of the Cousland family.

Alana Marie Cousland smiled before she promptly tripped up, falling to her knees and her palms scraping the stone tiles.

Fear surged through him but he managed to keep it down, remembering Elissa cautioning to him not work himself up whenever their daughter tripped up. He could only worry if Alana was crying – which would be a sign of a serious injury.

If he worried, then Alana would pick it up then they would not get anywhere.

"Oh dear," Alistair walked over to his daughter, who was already struggling to get back up. "Are you okay?" He squatted down in front of her, holding his hands out.

Alana grabbed them with her own small hands, pushing herself back to her feet before she giggled. Relief soothed his heart, easing the tightness briefly.

"I'm fine, Daddy," she told him with a sweet smile – his smile - and his heart clenched.

How could he tell her that her mother was missing?

"Need to tell you something," she told him.

"Oh?"

"Are you listening?" she asked and he gave her a small smile.

"Daddy's listening," he assured her.

"I love you," she told him, both her voice and facial expression serious.

His heart broke as he looked at her. Elissa had told him so many times that Alana looked like him but right now, all he could see was his wife in their daughter. Her laughter, her eyes, the way she tilted her head whenever she was curious.

Just like what Alana was doing now.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he told her and she gave him a bright grin, wrapping her small arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

He banded his arms around her, closing his eyes as he just held his daughter. Right now, she needed him and he had to be strong for her.

"Come on, sweetheart, let's go, and see Auntie Anora." Alana nodded wildly against his neck before he picked her up; causing her to squeal before she laughed and it brought a brief smile to his lips.

They made their way into the throne room, where Anora was talking to some of the servants. Even now, all these years later, Alistair was still surprised to see Anora was still at their side.

"Auntie Anora!" his daughter was delighted when she spotted Anora, who turned in their direction and smiled the moment she saw Alana.

Alana began to squirm in his arms so he set her down, watching as she hurried to Anora, squealing with delight as Anora swept her up into her arms, spinning the two of them around.

Alistair watched them for a moment before he slowly made his way over to them. Anora settled Alana on her hip, smoothing back the young girl's hair before she turned to look at Alistair, giving him a smile. It faded as she saw the look on his face.

"Alistair?" she asked. He swallowed, giving his daughter a small smile before he looked at Anora.

"Could…could you look after Alana?" he asked. Concern darkened Anora's features for a moment before she nodded her smile just as bright as she looked back at his daughter.

"Where would you like to visit today?" she asked.

"The Royal Gardens," Alana decreed. "I promised Mama I would check her flowers."

"The royal gardens it is," Anora agreed with a firm nod and she turned around, walking out with Alana telling her what else she had promised Elissa she would do.

Alistair turned, leaving the throne room and headed over to Elissa's favourite room – the library.

Stepping into the room, he looked reflexively over to the window seat, almost expecting her to be sitting there, reading a book. The image seemed so real that he could see her lifting her head, turning in his direction and giving him a smile.

Alistair smiled back, walking over and halting when she faded. His heart stopped for a brief moment before it cracked and grief overtook him once more, his hand going to the back of a chair.

He heard the door open behind him and he knew it was Teagan. A man he had come to adopt like a father.

"Alistair?" Teagan stepped closer, "Anora was concerned." Alistair chuckled mirthlessly.

"I got a letter from the Grey Wardens," he told the other man.

"That is good, is it not?" Teagan asked.

"They were ambushed in the Deep Roads and they do not know where she is. They have declared her missing in action," Alistair told him. He heard Teagan inhale sharply. "They believe her to be-" He choked on the word, unable to say it.

"Alistair," Teagan came to his side as Alistair shook his head, tears filling his eyes once more.

"She is not dead," Alistair rasped out as Teagan grasped his arm. "She cannot be dead…I…I cannot be without her."

"Alistair-" Teagan started again, and Alistair could hear the grief and worry in the other man's voice.

"How do I tell our daughter that her mother is missing?" he asked.

"You need to be strong, Alistair," Teagan told him. "If you cannot be strong for yourself, then be strong for your daughter, because she will need you."

"Alana-"

"-Needs you. She needs you to be her father. She will need you to assure her that her mother is coming back."

"How can you say that?" Alistair asked as he looked at Teagan.

"Elissa has Damon with her," Teagan reminded and Alistair nodded. "You know Damon would never allow anything to happen to Elissa. So we need to trust that the two of them are going to be okay, and that they will find their way home."

Alistair took in a deep breath before he slowly exhaled it, nodding.

"We can do this, Alistair. We just need to trust in her and we need to be strong, for Alana."

It became his mantra.

~_In Which We Hold On_~

"When will Mama be home?" Alana asked. Alistair bit back the tears as he stroked his daughter's cheek.

"Soon, sweetheart, she will be home soon."

"Can we have a surprise party?" she asked, "In the Gardens? Mama really likes the roses." He smiled.

"Yeah, with her favourite food?" he asked and she nodded.

"Like strawberries? Those are really good." He chuckled as he leaned in, kissing his daughter's forehead then pulled away.

"Of course we will." He pulled the covers up to her chin. "But first, you need to go to sleep." She pouted, he arched an eyebrow, and she relented.

"Fine," she turned onto her side, closing her eyes and pulling her stuffed Mabari, which Oghren had sent them shortly after she was born, in closer.

"I love you, sweetheart." She gave him a sleepy smile.

"I love you too, daddy."

He watched her for a little while longer before he got up, leaving her bedroom and entering his own. He closed the door behind him and made his way over to his seat in front of the fire.

Alistair sat down, rubbing his hands over his face as tiredness settled deep into his bone then sat back, his hands dropping to his knees and he stared into the fire.

It had been nearly six months since he received the letter from the Grey Wardens informing him of his wife being missing.

With each day that passed, his hope was dying. He had to suffer Eamon's impatient looks. Dealing with Eamon's urging to give up his refusal to believe his wife was dead.

If the Grey Wardens believed she was dead, then surely it was proof enough, the man had suggested.

It was only because Alana was in the room that Alistair had refrained from knocking the man out. Instead, he gave him a firm whispered order to keep his mouth shut regarding Elissa around their daughter.

Alistair rubbed his hand over his chin, feeling the beard he had been growing out since his wife went missing. It had caused a friction between him and Eamon, the older man wanting him get rid of it but he had refused.

At least Alana liked the beard, stating he looked older. However, he was still unsure if his daughter was complimenting or insulting him. The devious look she gave him was pure Elissa whenever she teased him.

Alistair was finding it hard to stop thinking about Elissa. He dreamt of her, the dreams so real he could swear he was touching her.

His wakening moments were not any better. There had been times where he had been convinced she was in the same room as him, his hand just reaching to touch her shoulder before she faded away like mist.

He was not sure what was worse, the dreams or the illusions.

The doors opened, alerting Alistair before he let on aggravated sigh.

"Now what is the problem?" he snapped as he rose himself from his chair, walking over to the fire, planting his hands on the mantel.

Every day there seemed to be a problem that needed his attention, every night he was roused from his sleep or his thoughts to deal with a situation.

If he did not believe he was already going mad from the constant image of his wife, he would have believed they were trying to drive him mad.

It dawned on him that the intruder had not said anything and he turned his head.

"What?!" he snapped.

"Alistair?" he froze at the sound of her voice, stiffening as he slowly turned around to see the gaunt figure of a woman standing near his chair.

"Elissa?" he did not recognise his voice nor could he recognise his wife.

Her hair was longer and greasy, dirt streaked at her pale – too pale – face. Her bottom lip was raw, bitten red.

Her armour was ripped and tattered, mud and – what he believed to be– blood splattering over it.

Her eyes – the ones that drew him to her – sunken, dark shadows under them and her face was strained, pinched – almost as if she was holding back her pain.

He gave a mirthless chuckle. It was a dream; the whole thing was one sick joke.

"Well, I'm happy to see you are not dead," he tried to jest, it fell flat, his emotions threatening to bubble up but he tempered them down.

He was not going to lose his emotions over a dream, or an illusion or even a demon.

"Alistair," she said again, as she stepped closer and he frowned, confusion running through him.

She seemed so real. The way she walked was hers. The tremble of her bottom lip tugged his heart.

She walked slowly and carefully, his eyes picking up a hint of limp in her left leg and he narrowed them. If this were just a dream or whatever, would she not be in healthy, whole, and uninjured?

Elissa slowly reached out her hand and he saw it shake. Her nails were ragged, cuts littered around her fingers and over her hand.

He stood firm, clenching his jaw when she touched his chest, her body coming to a stop just shy of his.

"Alistair," her voice was thick with unshed tears, her eyes glimmering from the fire and her tears. "It is  _me_."

"So you say," his voice was hard. "Sorry, I have been finding it difficult to tell the difference between reality and a fantasy these days." His words were cutting and she flinched, her eyes dropping to his chest. It tugged at his heart but he pushed it aside.

For too long, she has haunted his dreams, his wakening thoughts. For too long he had built up his hopes only to have them dashed each time he opened his eyes or tried to touch her.

"Alistair, please," she sounded broken as she slid her hand up to his shoulder before she bit her bottom lip, her eyes scanning his. They were bloodshot, darker than their usual hue and they were unfamiliar to him.

She leaned in and he steeled himself, waiting for her to disappear, to fade away, and to have his heart broken all over again.

She pressed her lips against him and it felt somewhat familiar. Her lips were rough and chapped. Her kiss was slow, soft, and hesitating. She pushed herself up onto her tiptoes, hissing gently as she curled her hand into the material of his shirt.

Startled by the familiarity of her movements, his hands went to her hips.

Everything was a contradiction. The way she held herself was different from his wife, but the way she kissed him belonged to her.

He closed his eyes, slowly giving in. May the Maker forgive him; it had been so long since he had tasted his wife.

He kissed her bottom lip and she shuddered. He kissed her upper lip and felt tears on his skin. Frowning, he pulled away to see she was crying, her tears running from her close lids.

This…he felt unsure. Was it a fantasy? Or was she home? Was she finally in his arms?

"Elissa?" he felt lost, confused and she slowly opened her eyes, meeting his and her bottom lip trembled as her hand moved up from his shoulder to his cheek.

"I am  _so_  sorry," she whispered, a sob breaking free. "I truly only meant to be away for three weeks."

It was  _her_. He stared at her, unblinking. His lips parted but he found it hard to breathe. His brain felt jumbled, the words he wanted to say dying on his tongue.

Her eyes searched his face and Alistair felt tears fill his eyes.

" _Elissa?_ " he finally asked and she broke down, crying. He pulled her into a hard hug and she clung to him, her tears soaking the material at his chest. All of his emotion, his fears, his worry, and his anger crashed into him and he broke down into her neck, feeling his own tears flow free.

His knees buckled and both of them fell to the ground. She kissed the side of his head, his neck, and his shoulder. Her hand ran through his hair as tears rolled down the side of his face, both his and hers.

"I thought you were-" He cut himself off and she nodded.

"I know, I am sorry, I am so sorry," she sobbed. He pulled away, cupping her cheeks and wiping away as much of the tears as he could.

She looked older. There was a new scar on her chin, nearly following her jawline to the left.

Her hair was longer, tangled and messy. Some sections were jagged and he wondered if it had been her or the Darkspawn who had hacked off her hair.

Elissa cupped his face, her fingers tracing the scar over his cheek, the beard he had grown out in her disappearance.

"How?" he shook his head in disbelief. "They told me you were-" a sob cut his voice short as he felt his throat constrict at the word.

"I-" She closed her eyes, turning her face away and shaking her head. "It is a long story."

"Are you okay?" he asked. She turned to look at him, her eyes dark as she gave him a smile – a fake one, he could always tell the difference when it came to her.

"Alistair-" He cut her off with a shake of his head, pinning her with a glare.

"No." Her lips parted, her smile fading and her breath expelling in shock. "Are you okay?"

Elissa bit her bottom lip when a noise disturbed them.

"Daddy?" a soft voice asked from the doorway, they both turned to see their daughter standing there, rubbing one eye sleepily and her hair sticking up in all angles.

"Alana," his wife whispered and he turned to see the heartbroken look on her face. He wondered if their daughter had changed much in the time she had been away from them.

Alana looked unsure as she loitered in the doorway, hugging her Mabari close to her chest before her eyes met Alistair and he gave her a small smile.

"It's mummy," he assured her. Alana slowly made her way over to them. Alistair noticed that she stuck closer to his side, eyeing Elissa before she stood near them, her little fingers tangling in Alistair's shirt at his shoulder.

"Mama?" she asked, her voice small, and Elissa scrubbed her cheeks before she gave their daughter a weak smile.

"Hi honey."

"Daddy never said you were coming home today," Alana said, looking between them and Elissa shook her head.

"I wanted to surprise you two," she told her. Alana's eyes widen before she turned to Alistair, leaning in and lowering her voice to a whisper.

"Did you tell her about the surprise party?" Alistair chuckled as he wrapped an around his daughter's body, kissing the side of her head.

"No honey, I did not," Alistair whispered back, fully aware that his wife could hear everything.

"Are you sure?" Alana gave him a suspicious look that was purely him and he smiled.

"Yes," he assured his daughter and she gave him a slow nod before they both turned to look at Elissa. Alistair frowned when he noticed that his wife looked distant before she smiled sadly.

"Are you home?" Alana asked. Tears filled Elissa's eyes before she gave her a quick nod.

"I am home," Elissa assured. "I am sorry for taking so long to get back."

"Is Damon with you?" Alistair huffed out a laugh, shaking his head and Elissa gave her a small smile.

"He is in the stables. You can see him tomorrow." Alana nodded and Alistair felt her fingers twisting the material tighter. He did not know what to say, how to break the rift between his wife and daughter and it made his heart hurt to see that look on Elissa's face.

"You got taller," Elissa finally said and Alana giggled.

"Daddy says I'm still his baby girl, no matter how big I get," she told her and Elissa smiled. It was weak, strained.

" _Just_  daddy's baby girl?" she asked. Alistair kissed the side of Elissa's head as Alana shook hers.

"I'm still yours, right?" Alana asked; her voice small and a breathless laugher escaped his wife.

"You will always be my baby girl," Elissa promised. Alana gave her a smile before she threw her arms around Elissa's neck.

Elissa hesitated for a moment before she banded her arms around their daughter, holding her close as more tears slipped free.

"I missed you," Alana whispered and a sob broke free from Elissa as she turned her face.

"I missed you so much," whispered Elissa, stroking Alana's hair, "Both you and your father."

"Are you leaving again?" Alana asked. Fear seized Alistair's heart before his wife shook her head, pulling her head away from Alana's neck.

"Never," she whispered, kissing the top of Alana's head before she met Alistair's eyes. "I am never leaving without you and your father again."

"Good," Alana pulled away, wrinkling her nose, "You need a bath."

Alistair and Elissa stared at her before they laughed. Elissa wiped her right cheek before she nodded.

"You are right, I do need a bath."

"Shall I get the servants?" Alistair asked and Elissa shook her head.

"No, I will run it," she told him as she turned back to Alana. "Daddy will tuck you back into bed. I will see you in the morning."

Alana gave her a small nod before she turned to Alistair, who stood up and lifted Alana into his arms.

"Night, mama," Alana said.

"Night, honey," Elissa's voice sounded strained but Alistair chose not to think about it right now as he took their daughter into her bedroom, settling her back down on the bed and pulling the covers up around her body.

"Mama is staying, right?" Alana asked. Alistair kissed the back of her hand before he smoothed her hair.

"Mummy is staying," he assured and she nodded. "So go to sleep." He leaned over, kissing his daughter's forehead.

"Night, daddy," she shifted back onto her side, closing her eyes and Alistair rubbed her back for a moment until he was sure she has fallen back to sleep before he got up and left the room.

Alistair rubbed the back of his neck as he closed the door and headed into the bedroom.

"She is sleeping-" Alistair stopped short at the sight of the jagged scar on his wife's naked back.

It was raw red, expanding from her left hip up to her right shoulder. How it had not separated her spine, Alistair would never know, as he could see how deep it was.

Elissa started, spinning around as she pulled up the cover to her bare chest, her lips parting in surprised before shame bloomed across her face, averting her eyes as she worried her bottom lip.

"Elissa…" he stepped forward, slowly shaking his head in disbelief.

"I guess it looks bad." Her voice came out hushed. He gave a mirthless chuckle, causing her to glance at him before she looked away again.

"How are you even walking?" he asked bluntly and she flinched, her knuckles turning white. "I'm sorry," he exhaled, "That was-"

"I smashed potions on my back," she cut in and he curled his fingers, his nails biting into his palms. "I did not have a choice. I refused to die in the Deep Roads so I smashed as many of the potions I could spare."

Tears stung the back of his eyes again as a breathless sob escaped him. He closed his eyes, willing away the image of his wife lying on the ground, helpless as she struggled to heal herself.

"Did you even go back to the Keep?" he asked, opening his eyes to look at his wife. "Do they even know you are alive?"

"I…sent a message," she slowly confessed. "I just wanted to come home. I…could not-" she shook her head.

"You came straight home?" He asked, torn between being happy and aghast. His wife had been injured. While he was glad that she was home, he was not pleased she had put off getting medical help.

"I could not face them," she hurried out, meeting his eyes with wild blue ones. "I – after the Deep Roads, I could not face them."

She was shaking, she clutched the cover tighter, her shoulders tensed, and Alistair wondered how close she was to breaking down.

Alistair went to say something but decided against it. He walked over to the small bedside cabinet, on his side of the bed; they kept locked and removed the small kit before heading back over to Elissa.

"Sit down," he told her, his voice rough. She snapped her gaze to him before she spotted the kit.

"Alistair-"

"Sit down," his tone was firm. This time his eyes locked with hers, letting her know that he was not arguing with her.

She swallowed before giving him a quick nod then slowly sat down on the chest at the end of their bed, wincing before she bit her lower lip.

Alistair sat down behind her, placing the kit on the bed next to him and opened it. He exhaled softly as he examined the items.

"I wish Wynne was still here," he slowly admitted, a pang of sadness crashing through him at the thought of the older woman. They had lost her a long time ago yet the grief was still strong for Alistair whenever he remembered the older woman.

She was the one to teach him healing, teaching him the different herbs and salves.

"I know," she whispered, one hand reaching backward, finding his and grasping it briefly.

"This is going to hurt," he reminded her. She gave him a jerky nod, taking her hand back. "Where's Damon?"

"He is in the stables. The Hound master is looking after him. He sustained some injuries too."

"Okay, at least we know he won't be attacking me," he jested, remembering her Joining.

"Alistair-" her voice came out pinched.

"I know but I need to joke or I am going to lose my mind, Elissa," He told her. She exhaled and he regretted his words.

"Please," she whispered, "Just…get it over and done with."

"Okay, do you want something to bite down on?" He asked and she shook her head. He unscrewed one of the small jars, the scent of the salve making him flinch before he took a deep breath, preparing himself.

He cleaned up much of the scar as he could. It was clear that the scar was still healing and he knew that constant movement must have caused it to reopen many times, which meant she would have smashed more bottles onto her back.

He dipped two fingers into the salve, scooping up a good amount then turned back to his wife's back. She tensed and he gave no warning as he smeared it over the scar.

Elissa held her breath and one of Alistair's hands – the one without the salve – went to her shoulder, supporting her as she started to shake, her breathing coming out rapid and painfully.

"Elissa," he soothed as he rubbed her shoulder, watching as the salve bubbled and he knew the moment the pain seared right through her.

Her head snapped backward and his hand covered her mouth, muffling her screams. Tears ran over his hand, her shoulders shaking as her hand wrapped around his wrist, holding on.

He pressed his forehead against the back of her head, wishing he could take her pain from her, wishing that he could let her scream her pain out but they could not risk alerting the guards nor allowing their daughter to see her mother like this.

Her back jerked before she sighed, her head falling forward and her grip growing slack. He pulled his hand away, wrapping her arm across her upper chest, supporting her as she leaned forward.

He grabbed the cloth, wiping off the remaining salve and noticed the skin surrounding the scar had lost its redness and the scar itself has shrunk down noticeably.

It would take a few more sessions before her scar could start healing properly, before her pain left her and he ran his finger down her back. He had come so close to losing her.

"Alistair-"

"Shh," he kissed her shoulder, over the scars in her left shoulder and she shuddered softly. "Let's get you into your bath."

"I can do it myself," she told him.

"I know," he told her as he stood up; rounding her so he was in front of her. She kept her eyes down, worrying her bottom lip and he squatted in front of her, touching her chin and drawing her eyes to his. "Just…let me do this,  _please_."

Elissa gave him a short nod and he shifted so he could slid an arm under her knees, his other hand wrapping around her lower back and lifted her, bridal style.

Her arms went around his neck, hissing in pain before she buried her face into his neck.

"Sorry," he whispered and she shook her head.

"Not you, it's just stiffness," she mumbled out, her breath hot against his neck. He was careful when walking over to the tub, seeing it filled more than halfway, free of oils and bubbles.

He was careful when he placed Elissa into the water, slowly lowering her while waiting for any signs of discomfort.

Once she settled, she slowly removed her arms from around his neck. One of his hands went to the nape of her neck, slowly rubbing the skin with his thumb while the other reached out for the soap and cloth.

"How long?" she asked. He froze then turned to look at her, watching him with dark eyes. "How long have I been gone?"

Alistair swallowed, his lips parting but his answer died on his lips, his mouth feeling dry.

She tilted her head curiously – so much like their daughter – before she gave him a short nod, glancing downward.

"That long?" her voice came out cracked. He could see she was trying to hold herself together. He resumed rubbing the back of her neck, shifting and sighed.

"Six months." He felt her tense under his hand; saw the way her hands clenched underneath her thighs. Her breath came out shaky, turning rapid before she nodded.

"It felt like months," she murmured, mostly to herself.

He tried his hardest not to remember the Deep Roads, how easy it was to lose track of time. It had taken time for the nightmares to die down – not that he would ever admit that he still dreamt of the Broodmother – but for Elissa, it had been worse. The knowledge of the Broodmother had always lingered at the back of her mind.

That had been one of the reasons why she spent two years looking for a cure for the taint.

"Do…do you want to…talk…about it?" he asked, halting as he tried to get his words out. He was unsure if she would want to talk about it, unsure if he wanted to hear about it.

Elissa was silent for so long that he began to believe that she was not going to say anything when she took a deep breath and shuddered.

"It was a nightmare," she slowly confessed, shaking her head. "We were sent to the Deep Roads because the Grey Wardens had heard of Darkspawn sightings. Naturally they were concerned about the appearance above ground so we were sent to investigate."

Alistair lifted an arm, gently washing her as her eyes took on a far-away look.

"Darkspawn are now harder to sense thanks to the curing. The Grey Wardens also wanted to know if the cure prevented us from getting the taint again." Alistair hissed angrily and she nodded. "I was the same when I discovered this. We had already done the testing but the Commanders wanted to know if we were resistant to constant contact with the taint."

Elissa sighed, shaking her head. "The Darkspawn must have sensed us or heard us, they ambushed us. What the Grey Wardens did not know was I was in a tunnel when there was a cave in, cutting me off. It knocked me out so when I awoke, I only had Damon with me."

She let out a mirthless laugh. "He was hurt, badly, due to the cave in so we had to wait until he was healed enough for us to even start moving. At first, it was not so bad. However, the deeper we went into the Deep Roads, the worse it got. It turned out that we were in the Broodmother's lair."

Alistair froze in horror, his breathing shaky as he watched her eyes glazing over, her own breath shaky and the way her fingers reflexively clutched around a weapon she no longer held.

"I do not think I ever slept."

Alistair shuddered before he grasped her arm, pulling it to him and began washing it, slowly rubbing her fingers until they relaxed under his touch.

"Even now, I still do not know who it was."

"Don't do that," he told her, rubbing the soap onto the cloth before he began washing her front. "Whoever it once was, it was no longer them." He smoothed the cloth over her shoulders, carefully over her chest and over her stomach.

He switched over to her back, taking care with the scar.

"The only thing I could think of was you and Alana," she started talking again. "How I needed to get home because it was Alana's name day soon and I could not miss it. How worried I was about you dealing with Eamon."

"And I keep telling you to stop worrying about that," he muttered.

"Alistair, I am never going to stop worrying about that," she told him, glancing at him as a small smile crossed her lips and he sighed. Her smile faded. "Then I started thinking about how you would never know what happened if I was to die down there."

"The Grey Wardens said they searched for you," he told her.

"Maybe they did," she murmured. "Maybe they saw the cave in but were unable to clear it."

"Two months," he bit out and she turned to look at him. "I got the letter two months. When you did not return home, I sent them letter after letter. No-one answered me until I got a letter telling me they declared you missing in action – or rather – killed in duty."

"I am sorry," she whispered and he shook his head, grabbing the bottle of shampoo.

"The two years you were looking for a cure – I was worried but at the same time, I knew you were okay." He started rubbing the soap into her hair and closed his eyes at the familiar scent – the scent that had long faded from his clothes and pillows – before remembering what he was doing. "This time? I was out of my mind."

"Alistair," he shook his head.

"Dunk down," he told her. She shifted forward and lowered herself backward, her hands clutching the rim of the bath and he removed the soap from her hair. Her eyes closed, but Alistair was not fooled, he knew that she was holding herself up.

Alistair tugged gently on her nape and she quickly rose up, one hand going to her face to wipe the water away and the other wringing out her hair.

"Did you get away from the Broodmother?" he asked and she shook her head.

"We-" She laughed and it sounded so hollow, "We managed to kill the Broodmother and cleared out the lair. I got lucky, there were  _supplies_." She met his eyes and he instantly knew what she meant.

"Elissa, honey," He touched her cheek as tears welled up in her eyes and she looked away.

"It took longer than I thought it would take for us to get to the surface, even with Damon following his nose. There were so many scents that he kept getting distracted and we were  _stuck_  in a maze, a  _never-ending nightmare_." She shuddered and he kissed the side of her head, running his hand over her hair.

"I just wanted to come home," her voice cracked and a sob broke free from him.

Alistair leaned in, pulling her into a hug. She pressed her face into his chest, clutching his arm.

"You are home," he told her gruffly, kissing the side of her neck. "You are home. And I am never letting you out of my sight again." She nodded against his chest before pulling away.

Alistair grabbed the towel, helping her stand up then out of the tub. He wrapped the towel around her body, struck at her height once more. Was she always this small?

He towelled her down, drying her as much as he could before he grasped the back of nightshirt and pulled it over his head then pulled it over his wife's body.

She looked small and defenceless just standing there with that haunted look in her eyes. Elissa closed her eyes, pulling the collar of his shirt up to her nose before she sighed.

"I had forgotten what it felt like, to wear your clothes." He gently tugged her over to their bed, helping her settle before he climbed in himself.

Elissa immediately turned into his body and he brushed back her damp hair as she looked up at him with wide eyes. He laid his head on his pillow and stroked her cheeks, memorising her features once more.

"The scar?" he asked and she stiffened. He knew that he should have let it go but she needed to talk about it, and he needed to know.

"It turned out we did not completely clear the lair. A few Darkspawn were furious with me for killing the Broodmother." She bit her lower lip. "I think they wanted to replace her."

"Elissa," A new fear took a hold of his heart. He knew how Broodmother were born, they both did, Elissa had thrown up after the first time they met and fought a Broodmother. "Did…" She shook her head.

"No. It was clear that the cure was keeping me safe from the taint. They sensed it, somehow," she frowned, "It got them angrier –if that was even possible – so they just attacked us. I had not realised there had been a Hurlock behind me and he caught me in the back. Damon finished him off – I have never seen Damon like that, Alistair." She met his eyes, "He was a…"

"Demon?" he supplied and Elissa slowly nodded. "I saw him like that – once." She arched an eyebrow. "The Joining." She paled and he nodded. "He wanted to attack Duncan. I managed to stop him."

Elissa sighed and shifted in closer. He carefully banded his arms around body and kissed her forehead.

"Never again," she whispered and he nodded. She buried her face into his neck and Alistair felt the hot wetness.

"You are home," he whispered. It was enough to break her and she broke down crying. He just held her close, stroking her hair as he closed his eyes.

She was home, she was safe, and right now, all that mattered was keeping her safe.

The End

(Maybe – I have ideas for a sequel running around)

Thanks to Pervinca for Betaing!


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